General Chemistry
by SuingMary
Summary: Everything you've never wanted in a fanfic


**Chapter 1: Thrilling Tides of Change**

It was a time and a place where things happened. There was also weather. Dramatic weather. The kind that foreshadows eventual doom or tempestuous life events. It is here, in this location, that we meet our female protagonist. She is not like other girls. She has suitably gem colored eyes, unusually colored hair, and skin like a food or pottery product. Now we will see her life from her perspective in a not at all jarring change in narrator and tense.

My name is Female Protagonist. This is my Story. It all started out when my mother divorced/ remarried, I moved to a new town, and had to be the new girl at my new school. I'm so mature for my age (insert parenthetical details like age when necessary) that I take care of my parents and am basically an adult and stuff. So mature. Because of this I am misunderstood and not appreciated by my peers at my new school. Tragically misunderstood. Despite my beautiful face and uniquely colored tresses and gem colored orbs, no one knows the real me. They only see my unceasingly reiterated features.

All the girls at New School hate me because I'm so beautiful that their boyfriends can't stop staring at me as I list my accomplishments (Black belt in 11 Martial Arts, Chess Grandmaster, 5 Star Chef, award winning biographer, and fashion consultant to name a few). They're just jealous. A part of me wishes that they could see past my outward perfection and see my inner perfection as well.

Then at lunch it happened. I saw Male Protagonist for the first time and he seemed to not be taken by my highly adjective heavy facade. I wanted to know him. I was so used to instant infatuation that the lack of it was driving me crazy. I turned to Generic School friend, and asked quietly "Who is he?" Generic School friend answered perkily, "Wow you really are new. Guess there's not much going on behind those unrealistically described eyes now is there? That's Male Protagonist. Every girl in the school wants to date him and have him stare broodingly with his shining gem colored orbs and metal colored locks."

I then had to find my next class. I don't know which one. It's not like I have to pay attention to little things like school or grades. I have a photogenic memory. I do know that Male Protagonist was there as I rushed in late, tripping over a microscopic flaw in the floor, right into the teacher, spilling the contents of an Erlenmeyer flask all over his (so last season) lab apron. "Whoops-a-daisy" I trilled charmingly, "My bad!". I sauntered dejectedly to the only available seat, right next to Male Protagonist.

I flashed by winningest smile at him (approx. 33 kilowatts), held out my hand for him to kiss and announced proudly, "Hey, I'm Female Protagonist! Nice to meet you!" Male Protagonist looked at my proffered pink and black french-manicured hand like it was a dead fish. In the middle of summer. The rest of the people in my class gazed upon this humiliating scene with vacant eyes.

Then the teacher cleared his throat like a cat with a hair ball, and said rudely " Miss Protagonist, Will that be all? May I start class now?" I nodded my head gracefully and replied "Yes, that's all. You may proceed"

I spent the rest of the class staring unblinkingly at Male Protagonist, but he had to take notes. This only deepened his mystery. Why did he take notes? He was left-handed, wrote in indigo ink, and had a well formed hand. I took note of how he shaped his letters for use in potential forgery. I studied how he blinked up from under his long lashes, his metallic eyes scrutinizing the chalk board. I sighed. He was so studious. I could tell by the way he paid attention and asked questions like "how do you spell atom?" that he was an intellectual. I knew that we would connect on a cerebellum level and lift each other to new heights of smartness.

Class ended and I was torn from Male Protagonist's side by the cruel maelstrom of changing classes, the bells that tolled for no one. I had to go to my Swahili class because I was already fluent in Latin and all the Romance Languages. Plus they're like so mainstream.

The rest of the day passed in wintery discontent. I could feel my obsession with Male Protagonist growing with each passing second. Something had to be done. And by Something I mean Stalking. Hardcore, irl stalking, not just on FaceSpace.


End file.
